


Winter in my Heart

by ink_dragon



Series: The Arbiter Saga [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Pregnancy, Spoilers, Zutara, Zutara - fluff, pregnancy mention, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:53:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28676994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ink_dragon/pseuds/ink_dragon
Summary: Zuko and Master Pakku go on a journey to the most spiritual place in the South Pole on a quest to make a betrothal necklace for Katara.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Zutara - Relationship
Series: The Arbiter Saga [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101782
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Winter in my Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot takes place after the events of my current WIP, “The Arbiter”. Therefore it contains SPOILERS for the end of that installment of the story (oh yes, there’s more!)
> 
> Also please check the tags for a certain TRIGGER warning. It *might* ruin the end of the story for you so please only look if you need to.

Zuko trudged through the heavy snow. It stuck to the fur trim of his Water Tribe snow bibs like thick clumps of white burrs. His breathing was becoming labored as he tried to keep up with the figure before him. Among the white drifts of snow he could only see a blue spec that marked the back of the man’s parka, its hood pulled up against the fiercely blowing wind. Despite the cloudless state of the sky, which had seemed to be perpetually at dusk for the last several weeks, it was colder on the wide, open tundra of the South Pole than it had ever been inside the walled compound of the village where he and Katara lived.   
  
It has been four or five months since they fled the Fire Nation and took refuge at the South Pole. He honestly couldn’t remember the exact time period. He had been barely lucid at the beginning of their exile. To him it felt as though he had exited the Spirit World one moment, and then he was waking up and finding himself having spent weeks at the South Pole the next.    
  
He was only now beginning to regain his strength. Katara had expressed concern when Master Pakku announced that he and the younger man were to journey to the spirit grove at the center of the tundra. To be sure, it was a long, difficult quest for an old man and a recovering young adult, but Pakku was a master waterbender still despite his age, and Zuko’s firebending was now returning to a point where he could take care of himself reasonably well.    
  
That old man was now leaving Zuko in his wake. He supposed that he should be thankful to be stepping into Pakku’s footsteps rather than having to break his own trail. Their feet sunk into the snow up to their knees in places despite the special shoes they wore. He had hoped that more progress could have been made by boat, but there was nothing for it. At this time of year, ice overtook much of the sea. He would have done anything for an ice-breaking warship right now, but the few that the Southern Water Tribe owned could not be spared for such an extraneous expedition. Besides, Master Pakku wouldn’t hear of it. This journey, he claimed, was as much for his physical well-being as his spiritual one   
  
Pakku finally stopped for a rest beneath a drift of snow that went far above his head. He saw the elderly man sit and cross his legs at the base of it and take a drink of water. After a few minutes Zuko caught up to him and did the same. Pakku’s small, perpetually icy eyes peered out at him from beneath his fur-trimmed hood.   
  
“You know,” he said wryly, “a strong, young man like you should be able to keep up with an old man like me. Am I sure I can trust you to protect Kanna’s granddaughter?” There was a smile in his voice, so he knew that the man was only taunting him.   
  
“I am not as strong as I used to be,” he gasped out after taking a deep drink from his canteen.    
  
He peered inside it and noticed that he had nearly drunk it all. He pointed the mouth of the drinking vessel towards Pakku, who wordlessly bent a stream of water from the nearby snow into the canteen. With him around, they would never be in need of drinking water.    
  
“Bah!” he spat, “you are stronger than you think. The mind can be your most powerful ally, but it can also be your greatest weakness.”    
  
Pakku had a penchant for sounding like his uncle Iroh at times. It stood to reason that all old men would think that the best way to teach a younger man wisdom was to speak in riddles that made no sense. Zuko felt that he was starting to catch on, however.    
  
“So you’re saying I can  _ think _ myself stronger?” he asked doubtfully.    
  
The man simply nodded, the creases around his eyes indicating a smile. Zuko exhaled a puff of warm steam from his mouth. At least the day’s hike was enough to keep him warm. He barely had to tip the scales with his inner fire to make himself comfortable.    
  
They only rested for as long as it took to rehydrate themselves and eat a bite of waybread. It had the texture of uncured cement and the taste was probably pretty close, too. But it was enough to keep his body going at least. Pakku said that there would be no game to be found until they reached the forest. Looking around himself, Zuko was doubtful that a forest could exist on this plane of frigid desolation, but he kept faith anyway. After all, it would be the only place in the entire South Pole where he could find the soft stone to carve into a betrothal necklace for Katara.    
  
Thinking of her gave him extra warmth in his core. She was his one joy in life since they had begun their dual journey together in the Spirit World. Every day now revolved around her, from daily healing sessions to spending the frigid nights together under warm furs. His face felt hot from the thought of her, especially nights with her. He was sure that his face had turned as red as his scar, and not just from the biting wind.   
  
That was why he needed to make this journey with Pakku. He needed to show her how much she meant to him, and this was the only gesture that he felt would be grand enough to express his utter devotion to her. He subconsciously put a mitted hand over the inner pocket where he had tucked away a scrap of red silk he had cut from one of the few royal garments remaining to him. He was going to make a betrothal necklace that was worthy of a future Fire Lord’s bride.    
  
Warm thoughts accompanied him through the long day as they trudged silently across the desert of snow. Zuko imagined himself flying high above them, viewing himself as a small dot in a vast landscape of endless white drifts, painted grey and purple hues by the dim light of the endless winter night. Time seemed to slip away here with no sense of the hours passing. When Pakku stated it was time to sit down and rest for the night, he simply followed along.    
  
Zuko helped light a cheerless smoulder that was more smoke than fire, but it was enough to see by and to give them warmth enough to sleep a few fitful hours. They had brought no kindling with them, so they were burning a lump of what basically amounted to lard mixed with wood shavings. The pungent odor of the burning animal fat smelled vaguely of cooked flesh and was making Zuko’s mouth water. He pulled out a frozen slab of smoked meat and gnawed at it with dissatisfaction. Pakku seemed to sense his gloom.    
  
“We’ll start seeing trees by tomorrow evening. Then we can hunt for some real food. It should only take us a day to find what we are searching for.”    
  
Zuko nodded dimly. Now that he was off his feet and putting something in his stomach, he felt the exhaustion seeping into his body like the chill had done all that day. He was vaguely aware of Pakku looking intently at him with his piercing gaze, as if weighing him. He had often gotten a sense of that since he had arrived here with Katara. It was clear that he felt as protective of the woman as if she were his own granddaughter.    
  
“What do you intend to do when the time comes for you to take back your nation?” The question hit him like a sudden blow, startling himself back into awareness. He frowned.    
  
“The truth is, Master, that I don’t know when - or if - that time will come.” The older man raised a hand to silence him.    
  
“Of course it will come in time, my dear boy. I was good friends with your uncle, and he had faith that you would succeed in your destiny.”    
  
Zuko found himself pouting. Pakku often brought his uncle into conversations like this, wielding his love and respect for Iroh like a sword to cut down the phantoms of his self-doubt. He caught himself in the act of shrugging.    
  
“When I am strong enough, I will return to the Fire Nation, and take back the throne from my sister and my enemies - with yours and Katara’s help, I hope,” he added expectantly. This didn’t seem to satisfy Pakku.    
  
“I’m an old man, Lord Zuko,” he began tentatively. “And Katara has duties to fulfill for her own people now. Are you sure that she will leave that behind in order to be your lady?”    
  
Zuko felt as though he had been slapped. Why was he bringing this up now? If he didn’t think that Katara should marry him, then why bring him all the way out here in the first place?    
  
But no, Zuko  _ was  _ certain that Katara would choose to stay with him when the time came. Perhaps Pakku was just hedging against the possibility that he hadn’t thought this through. The truth was, he had seldom ever been so sure of anything as much as he was sure that he and Katara were meant to be together. He just hoped that she felt the same.    
  
Pakku interpreted his silence as sullenness. “Don’t get me wrong, I believe that Katara’s love for you is as strong as yours is for her,” he said easily, “but I’m also just as sure that Katara needs to be with her people.” Zuko nodded. He could easily relate to that sentiment.    
  
“My people need me as well,” he said flatly, “all the more so because of the kind of Fire Lord my sister will prove to be.” The elderly man signalled his agreement.    
  
“It will be a difficult choice for her to make, nevertheless. I hope you understand that.”    
  
He did. His time at the South Pole had been one of the most blissful periods of his life so far. Even he himself would have a difficult time leaving it behind, he guessed. But his duty was more important than his happiness. He only hoped that he could have both somehow.    
  
He slept shallowly and fitfully, as he had every night since emerging from the Spirit World. His own spirit had been weakened by the trials he had faced there. He woke several times that night and always made sure that their small fire burned to give Master Pakku some warmth. The man was deeply asleep wrapped in his winter sleeping bundle, and never seemed to stir throughout the night.   
  
To his amazement, Pakku had been correct about the trees. He first spotted the form of a twisted deciduous tree by late morning the following day. He paused briefly as they passed by it. It had been battered by the ever-blowing wind into a barely recognizable shape, but it was the first sign of a land beneath the ice that he had witnessed in the last several months. He could see similar forms ahead of them in the distance. Pakku smiled and clapped his shoulder before continuing on ahead of him.    
  
A subtle awareness within Zuko told him that they were getting closer to spiritual grounds as they neared the edge of the forest. Pakku had explained that the forest was at the center of the South Pole, and that it was the most spiritual place in the Southern Water Tribe.    
  
Years ago, when he had been a different person, Zuko had visited the equivalent at the North Pole. He had not been sensitive to the fluctuations of spiritual energies at the time, but he was aware now. He vaguely wondered if he could enter the spirit world if he sat in the center of the forest, even in his weakened state. He had no intention of finding out.    
  
They spent the day searching for the kind of pale white stone that could be carved for the betrothal necklace. Now that they had reached the forest, he felt eager and impatient to complete the task before them. He began to grow frustrated when nothing was forthcoming, and Pakku was beginning to sense his anxiety.    
  
“Why don’t you go hunt for some game, Zuko? There are arctic squirrel-rabbits in these forests. All you need is a simple snare and a bit of waybread to catch them.”    
  
He eagerly accepted the diversion. Pakku undoubtedly knew better where to look for the stone. After all, he had carved a betrothal necklace twice before. He could handle hunting squirrel rabbits.    
  
After what felt like several long hours, he finally managed to snare one. It was a pathetic specimen and half-starved, but he looked forward to the fresh fare. He signalled for Pakku by gathering deadwood for a fire - Pakku had strictly forbidden him to cut anything live, and he could see the wisdom in that. The deeper into the forest he journeyed, the more he sensed that it had a sentience of its own and was watching him with disapproval. He hoped that taking away one of the creatures that gnawed on its roots would appease it somehow.    
  
Pakku found him just as the blood and fat was starting to pop and hiss on the spitted hare. His placid expression betrayed nothing of whether or not he had succeeded in finding the stone. Zuko knew well enough that with patience he would reveal the answer in time, so he remained silent and tried to settle his roaring stomach from the overwhelming fragrance of cooked meat.    
  
The meat of the hare was tough and sinewy, but it felt like a tender roast compared to the previous days’ fare. Only after they had sunk their teeth into the still-bloody flanks did Pakku reveal what he had accomplished that day.    
  
He did so by wordlessly pulling out a small, smooth oval and placing it before Zuko for his inspection. He took it gingerly, as if it were a delicate egg containing a tiny, precious lifeform. When he looked up and gazed at the man, he realized that his heart was full of an emotion that he hadn’t felt in a long time.   
  
Hope.    
  
The return trip from the South Pole felt easier to him somehow. His heart and soul were buoyed by fresh vigor at accomplishing his task. Each time they stopped to rest, he would work on the stone, flattening it into a round disk by tiny degrees. The stone was soft and could easily break. Pakku had pocketed more than one specimen, but he didn’t want to mar his luck by breaking any of them through carelessness. After all, this would likely be the most important thing ever crafted by his own two hands in his lifetime.    
  
That being considered, he struggled over a shape to carve into the necklace. Pakku had carried along with him a scroll of different traditional symbols and their meanings, but none of them satisfied him. On one of their frequent rest breaks, he sketched idly in the snow. He tried different variations on the Fire Nation crest, which he knew well, but to present that to Katara seemed self-important. He wanted to give her something that displayed parts of both of their heritage.    
  
Finally he sketched a swirling Water Tribe pattern surrounded by a flaming heart. Pakku looked between the young man and his sketch and nodded his approval. They stayed in that place until Zuko had delicately carved the pattern into the stone. When his work was finished, his heart sang with satisfaction.    
  
He completed the rest of the work of putting the necklace together with the help of Master Pakku that night. It was the final night of their journey. By midday the following day, he would see Katara again. His spirit overflowed with nervous excitement at the prospect.    
  
He tore his gaze away from the completed necklace to look up at the elderly man who had helped him make the journey. Pakku’s usual sour expression was cast away in favor of a wide grin. His eyes sparkled in the cheery firelight.   
  
“I know that look,” he said happily. “I felt the same way when I finished my second betrothal necklace for Kanna.” He chuckled, then turned in for the night.    
  
Zuko was beside himself with an uncomfortable mixture of giddy happiness and anxiety as he spotted the outskirts of the village from their small canoe. He felt himself wanting to abandon the paddle and swim to shore, although he knew how silly that feeling was. A small figure ran up to one of the look-out towers and began waving frantically. He knew in his heart exactly who that person was.    
  
He could barely contain himself as the boat eased its way to the docking area. Katara was running towards them, while Kanna padded slowly and evenly behind her. A wide grin was plastered on the older woman’s face. It warmed his heart to know that he had the love and approval of the kindly old woman.    
  
It took all of his self control not to abandon the packs of supplies and rush into Katara’s arms, but it was hardly necessary. She ran down to the end of the dock and embraced him where he stood with one foot still in the boat.    
  
“I’m so glad you’re safe,” she said quietly with her head against his cheek. Her voice was full of emotion as he held onto her, partly for the joy of seeing her and partly to keep his balance as the boat teetered beneath him.    
  
Pakku cleared his throat in annoyance. However, when Zuko turned to finish unloading their supplies he saw the sparkle in the older man’s eyes.    
  
The formalities of unpacking and being welcomed home seemed almost to grate on Zuko’s nerves. He knew that he couldn’t refuse Kanna’s offer to feed him and Pakku while they talked about the trip and how it had gone. Kanna made sea prune stew, a favorite of Pakku’s. The odd tasting food of the Southern Water Tribe had slowly grown on the firebender, but he wasn’t exactly clamoring for another bowl when he finished it.    
  
They had made the pretense that the journey was one of spiritual significance that would help Zuko heal, and that was not entirely untrue. They didn’t have to leave out or embellish too much, since most of the exercise was just to journey there and back again successfully.    
  
  
  
When he and Katara finally returned to their private hut, he grew more pensive. As he sat and stripped to the waist for a waterbending healing session, his eyes drifted around the room. He noted the sturdy hide walls, which he and Katara had constructed themselves after he had helped clear away the ice and snow. The floor was covered in skins with a large arctic hare rug at the entrance for kicking snow off their boots. Their matched pair of parkas and snow bibs hung limply beside the door to drip-dry in the warm air of the hut. This small shared space was more dear to him than a palace, he realized with a pang of guilt. Not for the first time did he wish that it could last for the rest of their lives.    
  
Katara remained unusually quiet throughout her ministrations. Over-all she had seemed muted after her frenzied embrace on the dock. He began to suspect that something was wrong, or that something had happened while he was away.    
  
She breathed deeply as she put the healing water back into its vessel. She moved to stand, and he took her hand in his. It was still cool from the water she had been using on him. He gazed into her ocean-deep eyes. The way she looked at him, he knew that she was about to say something.    
  
“Zuko, I have to tell you something,” she began. His heart sank.    
  
“I’ve been feeling… different, lately,” she continued. He felt his whole body go rigid. Of all the things he had imagined her saying in this moment, this was the furthest from his mind. And it cut deep and cold into his heart like an ice knife.    
  
“I went to see Gran-Gran today and she told me something,” she inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly. “Zuko, I’m pregnant.”    
  
He felt his heat skip a beat.    
  
Two beats.   
  
“W-What?” he asked, flabbergasted.    
  
“I know, I know!” she said, suddenly tearing her hand out of his and pacing beside the bed, “I thought I had it under control, but I miscalculated,” she turned to him with a lopsided smile. “Life is persistent, Gran-Gran told me.”    
  
Zuko was stunned into silence. He reeled as his head swam with a thousand thoughts. She was suddenly there again, pressing his head into her abdomen as her hands ran through his hair.   
  
Just below his cheek, he realized, their son or daughter grew inside her.    
  
“Spirits above,” he whispered faintly.    
  
He heard Katara sniffling, as if she were softly crying. Then a sudden burst of giddy laughter bubbled up from her throat.    
  
“You know, most Water Tribe children are conceived of in winter…” she trailed off.   
  
Zuko cleared his throat. “Well, uh, I know we’ve definitely been keeping ourselves warm at night,” he reddened.   
  
She made a sound that was half a laugh and half a sob.    
  
“Are you upset? I don’t know what they do in the Fire Nation if-”   
  
“Spirits, no!” he interrupted, pulling his head away to look up at her. He was smiling so hard he couldn’t help it. “I’ve never been happier, truly. But…”    
  
He saw her swallow as he leaned over to where his upper layer had been cast off and pulled out the red silk necklace. The small round stone shimmered like a tiny moon in his hands. He heard her softly gasp as she realized what it was.    
  
He stood beside her and formally presented it to her. He swallowed hard.    
  
“May I put this on you?” he asked quietly.    
  
Tears sparkled in her eyes as she nodded solemnly. He gently spun her around, guiding her with his hands on her hips. His nervous fingers fumbled with the tiny clasp which secured the betrothal necklace around her throat. He saw her reach up a hand and touch the stone just above her pulsing veins.    
  
She turned and let him kiss her then. It was a long, slow kiss. The kind of kiss that he had been dreaming of to keep himself warm during the endless cold nights on the frozen tundra. When they finally separated, he realized they were both shedding tears openly now. He could not remember ever being so happy before in his life, and could not imagine being happier again.   
  
That is, except when he finally gets the chance to cradle their child in his arms.    
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this as a stand-alone work as part of my ongoing WIP story "The Arbiter", which will be a 3 part series excluding this short one-shot. If you liked what you read here and aren't familiar with the main story, then please consider checking it out or bookmarking for later when its eventually completed ^^
> 
> Although this story contains spoilers, hopefully you will be able to enjoy it as a one-shot. If some statements don't make sense, that is because some context is missing that will be later revealed in The Arbiter story. 
> 
> I felt it was "safe" to post this one shot as the amount of detail from the end of The Arbiter is minimal. 
> 
> As always, love it or hate it, feel free to leave a comment below. I'm still in search of a beta reader for my ongoing Zutara projects, so if you are a fan of my work or Zutara, please let me know if you are interested in beta reading/editing ^^


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